CHAPTER XXV.
THREE MINUTES OF LIFE.
Before the first sharp sting of the wound that had halted theDreadnought Boy had subsided, Ned found himself once more a prisoner.He had torn the gag from his mouth as he ran; but he made no effort toshout, knowing that it would do no good in that desolate region. Hecalmly submitted to being rebound, this time his legs also being tiedtightly.
"We'll take no further chances with you, my young rooster," commentedKennell, as he made a double half-hitch on Ned's leg thongs; "but youwere a greeny to think you could get away as long as Ralph Kennellcould hold a gun."
Although the wound in his leg gave him acute pain, Ned was pretty sureit was only a flesh one, and had not shattered the bone; for which hefelt thankful. Ned was made of that kind of stuff that never gives uphope, and, even in the desperate position in which he now was, he yetdecided to make the best of it and watch for any chance that mightpresent itself to extricate himself.
"Come on, come on," growled the elder Pulsifer, as Ned was once morehustled roughly into the tonneau of the machine. "We can't waste allnight on that cub. Silas and Carl told us that you were a good fastworker. We're not paying you to take all night over it."
"All right, guv'nor; keep your shirt on," rejoined Kennell; "let herrip. We've got him hog-tied now, all right."
Not long after, the auto shot into a dark, shadowed canyon, which seemedto bisect the range of rugged hills, and came to a halt on the otherside. The stop was made before a small house, built in the nativestyle, in front of which stood a row of royal palms.
"Home, sweet home," grinned Kennell, with grim humor; "come on,younker, pile out, there."
Ned almost yelled with pain as he straightened up on his injured leg,and Kennell, noticing him wince, gave a loud, brutal laugh.
"Hamstrung, by the great bow-gun!" he exclaimed. "I guess you'll giveus no more trouble."
To Ned's relief, for he had almost begun to share Kennell's belief thatVarian had been over-drugged, the inventor had opened his eyes a fewmoments before they reached the hut, and murmured feebly. His wordslacked sense, however, under the influence of the drug as he still was.
"Bring them both into the front room," ordered the elder Pulsifer, ashe climbed down from the driver's seat.
The "front room," it transpired, was a sparsely furnished apartment,containing a table and two or three chairs, and nothing else. Thefloors were bare and of polished wood after the manner of the country.Ned guessed that the place was occupied only temporarily by thePulsifers as a quiet spot in which they could meet their agents, securefrom outside observation. The fact that they had brought an auto tothis part of Cuba, where horses are mostly used, lent color to thissupposition.
Dave Pulsifer's first act was to light a lamp, which he placed on thetable; his second, to ignite a cigar, and his next to offer a chair tothe white and shaky inventor.
"Sit down, Varian," he said. "We don't wish to injure you, or hurt youunless we have to; but, as you wouldn't talk business over quietly, wehave had to adopt these means of bringing you to terms."
Glad enough of a chance to rest, Mr. Varian slipped wearily into theoffered chair. Ned was shoved along by Kennell till he stood behind theinventor with Kennell close at his elbow. Since his frustrated escape,the wretches who held him captive were taking no chances of anotherrunaway.
Schultz, Silas, and Hank Harkins stood behind the younger Pulsifer, whohad now joined his brother at the opposite side of the table to thatat which Mr. Varian's chair had been placed. Before the younger of theworthy pair of brothers lay a revolver convenient to his hand. As heregarded Mr. Varian intently, his jeweled fingers played with its buttsuggestively.
The inventor made no reply to the elder Pulsifer's remarks, and theforeign agent--as he now stood revealed--continued in a sharp tone.This time he came right to the point.
"Varian, we need not beat about the bush now. We want those plans andthe formula."
"I have not got them," replied the inventor, in a low, shaky voice.
"You lie!"
It was a sure indication of Mr. Varian's pitiable condition that hemade no move or spoke no word at the insult.
"You searched my pockets before you forced that stuff over my face," hebreathed. "You know that I have not got them."
"Again I say you lie. You were consulting with Captain Dunham, of theDreadnought _Manhattan_, earlier this evening. You were seen to showhim the papers, and explain some of the points of the test which is tobe made of your gun shortly. Come, we don't want to be unnecessarilyrough with you. Are you going to give the papers up?"
"No!"
The answer snapped out like the crack of a whip.
Ned noted with satisfaction that the inventor's former fire anddecision seemed to be returning.
"Then we must search you. Men----"
The elder Pulsifer pointed to the inventor, while the younger coveredhim with the revolver. One of the latter's bediamonded fingers wascrooked on the trigger as if he longed to pull it.
Instantly Carl Schultz, Silas and Hank, who had all three startedforward at the command, seized and held Mr. Varian tightly, whilethe younger Pulsifer, still with his revolver in hand, tapped theinventor's coat to find the hiding-place of the papers.
"Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, with a cry of triumph. A crisp, cracklingsound had rewarded his search.
An instant later, from a secret pocket in the inventor's coat, he haddrawn forth a flat bundle of papers. The two Pulsifers, their eyesshining greedily, scanned them closely beneath the lamp, and thenuttered what was a perfect howl of baffled rage.
The blueprints of the breech-block, without which the gun would beuseless and the formula so much waste-paper, were not there.
"Look here, Varian," snarled the elder Pulsifer, "we've been prettylenient with you, so far. We intend to be so no longer. Where are thoseblueprints?"
"Where you will never get them," bravely replied the inventor.
"You are overconfident, my friend," sneered the elder Pulsifer. "Wenot only will get them, but by your own lips you will tell us where togo to acquire them."
If the faces of the Pulsifers had borne an evil look before, theybecame as avid as those of vultures now.
The inventor, who was fast overcoming the effects of the drug, foldedhis arms defiantly, his captors having released him when the search wasgiven up by the younger Pulsifer.
"Bind him!"
The command was snapped out by the elder of the brothers.
Instantly the three hired rascals who had held him before pounced onthe inventor, and roped him tightly in the chair.
Resistance was useless, and the inventor submitted to the ordeal withan unflinching countenance.
"Now, then, Varian, have you changed your mind?"
"Not yet; and I never shall if you wish to know, Dave Pulsifer."
"Very well. We have tried fair means, now we'll adopt other tactics."
The Pulsifers whispered together a few minutes, and then the youngerbrother left the room.
He returned with a fair-sized keg, which seemed to be heavy. This heplaced in a corner of the room.
"What on earth are they going to do?" Ned wondered to himself.
He was not to be left long in doubt.
The younger Pulsifer's next move was to open a cupboard in one cornerof the room and produce a short length of candle.
He eyed this critically and then produced a silver match-box.
A tense silence hung over the room, as the flabby-faced Pulsifer movedabout making these preparations. Both Mr. Varian and Ned eyed him withclose attention. They felt that somehow or other, incomprehensible asthese preparations were, that they boded no good to themselves.
The younger Pulsifer lit the candle and then turned to the two captiveswith a smile.
"This candle will burn, roughly speaking, for five minutes," he said."I am going to place it in this barrel of powder. The stuff is not aspowerful as Chaosite, but it will serve the purpose," he added, w
ith aside glance at the inventor.
As he spoke, the wretch ripped off the wooden heading of the barrel,which had already been loosened, and placed the candle upright on itscontents.
This done, he once more turned to the inventor.
"_Now_, will you tell us where those blueprints are, and give us anorder for them?" he snarled.
"Not in the longest day you ever lived," replied the inventor firmly.
"Good for you," shouted Ned; "if we are to go to the bottom we'll godown with colors flying, Mr. Varian."
"That's right, my boy; spoken like a true jackie of Uncle Sam," saidthe inventor approvingly.
"Very fine, heroic and melodramatic," sneered Dave Pulsifer, "butthink a moment, Henry Varian. That candle is getting shorter. In a fewseconds we shall withdraw, not wishing to be present at the final actof the tragedy. Think of your wife and children----"
This time the inventor groaned, but an instant later recovered himself.
"I would rather leave them the memory of a loyal citizen and American,than give them the companionship of a coward and a traitor," he replied.
"More heroics; really, Varian, if you were going to live, you mighttackle a melodrama with good success. Come on, boys. Two minutes oftime are up. In three minutes more this place and those in it will beblown to pieces. Good-night and--good-by, Varian, and you too, youspying, sneaking, informing cub. If you relent, Varian, shout loud, andwe shall hear you."
With this bitter fling at the Dreadnought Boy, the Pulsifers and theirevil companions withdrew, Hank Harkins pausing at the door to remark:
"I guess I'm on top now, Ned Strong."
Ned disdained to reply, but, instead, as the door closed behind themen who had planned such a refinement of cruelty, he fixed his eyes onthe candle in the barrel. Pulsifer had taken the lamp when he and theothers withdrew. The light of the waxen illuminant, that was rapidlygrowing shorter and nearer to the powder, was the only radiance in theroom.
"In three minutes," Pulsifer had said.
Ned's eyes regarded the flickering candle with a look of despair.
It grew lower and flickered. One more such wavering of its steady flameand the end must come.